Family Matters
by frenziedpanda7
Summary: There are some things you can't run away from, the only thing to do is face them head on.
1. Chapter 1

Family Matters

Yu-Gi-Oh and its characters are the wonderful creations of Kazuki Takahashi. I'm not making any money from this, just having lots of fun.

A/N A big thank you goes to the wonderful Kitt Chaos, for permission to bring Patience and Daniel Morgan from her "Collateral Damage" story into this tale. Her insights and suggestions have been invaluable. And thanks also to my awesome beta Dragondancer 5150, for your extraordinary patience with my runaway punctuation and other goofs.

Prologue

He could hear her crying for him. Her fury and despair were echoed in her frenzied roars. She had been taken from him, could not find him, could not help him…

The why was obvious, his own blind arrogance. The stupid certainty that he was invulnerable, untouchable. Still, even if he had been so sure of himself, why take the needless risk of going alone?

Shame. In the harsh light of self recrimination he could not un-see the truth of it. He had been ashamed, had not wanted anyone to know the truth of his own beginnings. The orphanage, being adopted by Gozaboro, his rise to fame and power by his own brilliance and hard work, _that_ story was well known. What came before, the loss of those who truly loved them, the bitter betrayal by those who called themselves family. Those deep, bitter truths were recognized only in the shadowed recesses of his heart. They had taken all that could be taken, then dumped him and his baby brother on the grounds of the orphanage in the dead of night. He still remembered the sound of squealing tires as the car drove off, leaving them shivering in the cold until morning when the staff found them huddled together under a tree by the gate. Mokuba was the lucky one, he had been too young to remember their name, a name he had erased from his own soul until that morning, when he had opened the envelope.

It was not that unusual for a fan letter to arrive on his desk, especially since that interview had hit the newsstands. This one had seemed no different, save for the lack of a return address. With no immediate crisis demanding his attention, he slit it open. An old photo had fallen out. He picked it up, and time stopped…

* * *

**New York. Two weeks earlier.**

Knowledge was power. In the right hands, used in the right way, knowledge could win wars and topple empires. The most vital knowledge was often obtained from the least likely sources, which was why he was risking food poisoning at a tawdry grease pit calling itself a "family" restaurant.

His luncheon companion certainly fit right into their surroundings. Cheap off- the- rack suit, vinyl briefcase, pathetic comb over.' Seedy', 'sleazy', and 'uncouth' were the words that came to mind. Still, if the merchandise being offered had any real value, he could tolerate an hour or two spent in such disagreeable company.

The "salesman" pulled a magazine from the briefcase and set it on the table between them. The young man – a boy, really- featured on the cover had in the last year become a household name the world over. His technological brilliance had revolutionized the gaming industry.

"I've read the article, Mr. Harper. Very touching human interest story, two brothers tragically abandoned, no clue as to their identity, adopted by a billionaire arms dealer, turning a highly successful company away from weapons manufacturing to game design and doing it for 'All the children of the world'. This is all public know-"

"Very true sir," Harper's smarmy voice was as rancid as the coffee. He flipped through the magazine, finding a certain page and indicating another photo. "But as the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words."

The photo was of the same young man, this time as a boy of perhaps ten or eleven, playing chess with his brother, who appeared to be about five. "This was taken at the orphanage about three months after they arrived." Harper produced another photo from the brief case and laid it beside the first. "_This_ was taken _two years before that chess game!"_

It was obviously the same children, just slightly younger. A man in an American military uniform knelt with his arms around the boys, his resemblance to the older boy unmistakable. Harper placed a third photo alongside the first two, the same man, his arm around the shoulders of a lovely Japanese woman. Even in the small faded picture her pregnancy was clearly visible. One hand rested on her swollen belly, the other held the hand of the boy who would become the youngest C.E.O. in the history of the Fortune 500…

* * *

He didn't remember when the photo had been taken, certainly not who had taken it. But he _did_ remember the man kneeling with his arms around him and Mokuba, remembered more with his heart than his intellect that this man had truly loved them.

"_Father."_

His little brother looked to be two or three in the photo, so it had to be well after their mother's death. His mind's eye could no longer call up her image, but he was sure Mokuba resembled her.

"_But he wasn't Mokuba, not then, and you weren't Seto…"_

He looked inside the envelope, discovered a folded slip of paper upon which was written a phone number and a single sentence in English:

Here's another photo for your family album.

After several long moments, he reached for the keyboard on his desktop computer and googled three names. Within minutes he was reading several newspaper articles and an obituary, all written two years before. One survivor, no other family listed.

"_You got it all, but it wasn't enough. No matter how much you had, it was never enough…"_

This had to be dealt with, quickly and decisively. Unknown enemies had been attempting to undermine his authority at Kaiba Corp. for some time. The timing of this message could not be a coincidence. While certain precautions would be taken, this was something he would have to deal with personally.

'_No more, you're not taking anything else from us. This ends now!"_

* * *

**New York. One week earlier.**

It was an unbelievable story, better suited to those absurd thrillers his wife was always reading, than to the real world. Yet the proof was now in his private safe, verified by people with far more discretion than the late Mr. Harper. It was highly doubtful anyone would mourn his untimely passing, certainly not his former "clients".

It was one of those pathetic clients who had been airing his family's dirty laundry in hopes of settling a rather large debt. It seemed the young man's late uncle, a career Air Force officer, had met and fallen in love with an exchange student while both were enrolled at Berkley. Marrying despite opposition from both families, they had been stationed at several bases including Pearl Harbor where their older son was born. Tragedy first struck at Okinawa when the wife died of a brain aneurysm just two days after the birth of their second son, especially sad given that she had recently reconciled with her mother, her father having died the year before without ever speaking to his only child or acknowledging his grandson. The two motherless boys hardly had a chance to know their grandmother before she also passed away, never recovering from the grief of losing husband and daughter.

The bereaved father had done his best, aided by a substantial inheritance left to them by his late mother-in-law. Since none of his wife's remaining relatives wanted anything to do with them, he made plans to raise his sons in the U.S. as soon as his last term of service was complete. He was killed in a car crash just one month before his scheduled discharge. His older son was eight, the younger boy only three years old.

At first, it seemed that the boy's story might finally have a happy ending when it was discovered that their father had a brother living in the town of Domino where he taught English at the local university. The boys were sent to live with their aunt and uncle and cousin, then promptly forgotten. When the family returned to the states less than a year later, with far more money than a college professor's salary could account for and without their nephews, no one questioned the story that the boys had decided to live with their mother's relatives…

He would have liked to interview the aunt and uncle, but alas, they had died in a mysterious house fire two years ago, leaving their only son to inherit their estate. It had taken the lad very little time to squander his good fortune, mostly on drugs and gambling. It was these bad habits that precipitated the young man's current financial difficulties and forced him to put up his family history as collateral for the debt. How very fortunate that the proof of his claims had been packed away in a rented storage unit and not burned up in the family residence.

It was a stroke of luck that Harper's imagination had extended no further than selling this information to the highest bidder, a further stroke of luck that he had been the first potential buyer Harper had approached. Blackmail, he was now certain, would be no more successful than his attempts to turn public opinion against a certain gaming corporation and its upstart C.E.O. had been. The punk learned from his early mistakes, like that little uproar caused by his treating a quiet suburb as his personal playground, even hiring his most outspoken critic to head his Community Impact Division! This woman, Morton – no, _Morgan,_ that was her name - was certainly earning her paycheck, not only undermining his efforts to show the company in the worst possible light, but also managing to transform her employer into an international hero. She was surely capable of using the threat of extortion to generate massive outpourings of sympathy and support.

But this new information would still be very useful. For some time, he had been seeking a way to remove the upstart from the picture, and now he had an opening. Using an untraceable cell phone, he punched in a number from memory. The gentleman he was calling had impeccable references for this sort of work, along with important contacts in several high profile companies.

"Mr. Kemo, I'll need you to assist a young man who will be doing some very important 'consulting' work for me. I've given him some very precise instructions. Please see that those instructions are followed to the letter."

"Of course sir. And when the 'work' is complete..?"

"Then his services will no longer be required."

_Knowledge is power, Mr. Lewis, when used in the right way, at the right time. Oh, but you don't use that_ _name anymore, do you? You seem to prefer to be known as Mr. KAIBA these days. I suppose you can't be blamed for that, the Kaiba name does have its advantages. Your little brother may be too young to remember, but I'm sure you haven't forgotten your American relatives. I do believe a family reunion is long overdue. Such a pity this sudden family crisis will keep you from attending the upcoming shareholders meeting. In fact, I'm afraid it would be best for Kaiba Corporation if another, more seasoned C.E.O. were to be elected. Someone who will move the company away from this card game fad and back to its roots…_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter one

A/N Roland is the dub name for Isono, but for this story I have made them two separate individuals.

**Morgan residence New York. **

Patience stared at the email displayed on her screen. It was odd enough that it made it past her spam filters, since it had come from an address she didn't know. The subject line was enticing – Blue seeking mystic help – but not terribly informative. The body of the email was not much clearer – a single sentence stating "Dragon needs the elf's shield" along with a link. Patience hovered her curser over the delete button for a long moment before the meaning floated up from the depths of her memory.

Dragon. Elf. Shield. It triggered the memory of her second meeting with Seto Kaiba, the man who was now her boss. Strange that Mr. Kaiba would choose to contact her through her personal email. She wasn't surprised that he knew it, even though she'd never given it to him, or anyone else in the company except Roland. If Seto Kaiba needed to contact her outside of Kaiba Corporation's systems, he could certainly gain access to it easily enough.

"Blue seeking mystic help" was fairly straightforward in light of her memory now. But why would Mr. Kaiba need her help – and why ask for it in such a cryptic way?

"_Because he's being watched, or thinks he is."_ In her experience, Seto Kaiba was not someone who feared much of anything. If he were this cautious, whatever was happening was dire indeed. _Dragon needs the elf's shield _referred to the special authority Mr. Kaiba had granted her as head of Kaiba Corporations Community Impact Division. She had the nigh-unique power to shut down a project if she deemed it too damaging to the public at large – and could convince her boss the potential for damage was real. So far, she had never had reason to invoke that authority.

But, _Dragon_ needs the shield? That turned the dynamic upside down. Seto Kaiba needed protection? From what, or who? Patience mentally reviewed recent reports that had flowed across her desk. Over the past month, her department in conjunction with the Public Relations division, had been working to counter a surge of hostile and inflammatory articles accusing the company of exposing children to harmful fantasy violence, rehashing old -and already debunked- allegations that the holographic imaging systems could induce seizures, and implying that Seto Kaiba himself was too young and inexperienced to run an multinational company. The worst of the tabloids even ran articles implying that he was somehow involved in the death of his adoptive father Gozaboro Kaiba.

With Mr. Kaiba's approval, Patience put together a plan to offset the absurd rumors and accusations while ruffling the least number of feathers possible. The public relations department went into overdrive churning out press releases. An international foundation was being organized that would assist needy communities in setting up healthcare and educational facilities. Scholarships would be awarded to young duelists based on grade point averages and recommendations of teachers and coaches. Most exciting of all, a special exhibition duel was announced, with proceeds to benefit children's cancer research. The duel would be between Seto Kaiba and Yugi Mouto, and Yugi _would _use the god cards!

Reaction was positive for the most part. The duel was broadcast on pay-per-view and raised millions. The Kaiba brothers attended the groundbreaking ceremony at the first community chosen to receive a new hospital, and afterwards gave out free cards and duel disks. The price of Kaiba Corp. stock rose significantly. The rumor mill had been overwhelmed by all the positive press. Nothing she'd been alerted to of late appeared to be particularly critical of Kaiba Corporation or its C.E.O.

With some trepidation, Patience clicked on the link. She had to go through several levels of security identification, just as she did to access the most sensitive of Kaiba Corporations files. After authenticating herself to the satisfaction of the main secure server, a new routine opened up declaring this page to be one of three. Three Duel Monster cards were displayed on her screen; Blue Eyes White Dragon, Dark Magician, and Red Eyes Black Dragon. She clicked on the Blue Eyes, gaining access to a text input screen. Upon entering "Seto Kaiba", she was rewarded with the progress bar advancing to level two of three.

Five cards were displayed this time – Blue Eyes, Celtic Guardian, Battle Ox, Mystical Elf, and Lady of Faith. Without hesitation, Patience clicked on Mystical Elf and entered her own name in the text box that opened up. Three of three opened.

Twenty four cards now filled her display. Having a pretty good idea of what she was looking for, she clicked on the Millennium Shield that had to be the third card of this 'hand" only three people knew existed. Sure enough, a final text entry box popped up, and Patience typed in her brother's full name.

Her screen filled with information. As she read, her eyebrows raised in surprise. Mr. Kaiba had already instructed her to begin compiling information on certain individuals: past and present employees of Kaiba Corporation and Industrial Illusions, reporters whose bylines had appeared on recent articles, his own board of directors. Now three new names had been added, along with links to several newspaper articles and instructions to find out if _any_ connection existed between them and the other people they were investigating.

A quick scan of the articles only added to her confusion and unease. Two of the three were deceased under questionable circumstances, and her boss was very anxious to know the whereabouts of the third. And the names themselves was common enough, so why the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach?

The final document was the most chilling of all. The link opened a video file. Patience's heart skipped a beat as an image of Seto Kaiba, seated at a massive desk, formed on her screen. She never claimed she was an expert, but somewhere along the way, she'd learned to read people's unconscious non-verbal cues. Mr. Kaiba normally didn't supply _any_. The fact that there were so many cues to pick up from her employer's body language in the recording came as a shock, and drove home, as if the preceding documents hadn't already, the fact that Seto Kaiba was – highly concerned. Perhaps even a bit fearful.

_With any luck, I've returned from my errand and stopped the delivery of this email. If you are viewing this, I can assume I didn't return in time, and haven't called to tell you that it's moot and to erase it. I suppose I should discuss this new development with Isono and Midori, but until I find and destroy the snake feeding sensitive information to my enemies, well, I have no reason to doubt their loyalty but I can't assume they aren't under surveillance. Besides, I now have reason to suspect that a far more dangerous threat has emerged. Not just to Kaiba Corporation, but to me and to Mokuba. If I'm correct about the source, you and Roland will be in a better position to deal with it and keep Mokuba safe. Whatever you find out, send it to the email address I've included. I am quite sure any spies within Kaiba Corporation will not have discovered it._

He paused to look down at something on his desk. Then, he leaned closer to the camera and spoke so fiercely and urgently it was almost as if he was about to come right through the screen at her.

_Patience, there is something I have to deal with, something out of a past I thought dead and buried a long time ago. I can honestly admit that I've done things I'm not proud of, hurt people who have shown us nothing but friendship, have put their own lives at risk to help us. I think you know I've tried to change, have tried to put aside anger and arrogance for Mokuba's sake, to move forward and try to make our dreams a reality. But, there are some things you can't run away from, secrets that get found out, and sometimes the only thing to do is face them head on. If anything happens to me, I'm – I'm… _He leaned back, and sighed. _My brother's welfare is more important than anything else. I'd give up Kaiba Corporation, even the Kaiba name without a single regret if that's what it takes to keep him safe. If the worst should happen to me – confirmed beyond any possibility of doubt, make certain Mokuba gets the last file attached to this email. It's … private. Only Mokuba will know how to access it. _

Patience couldn't help the chill that ran up her spine as the recording faded to black. During the time she'd worked for Kaiba Corporation, she'd discovered that Seto Kaiba was a very exacting but fair employer to work for. Truth to be told, despite their highly fractious first meeting and the aftermath, she'd become fond of the young man. That her job was enjoyable and challenging, and that she suspected that he had timed the opening of the Community Impact Division in the New York office to coincide with her brother's advanced studies in New York, had quite a bit to do with her loyalty to her boss.

She couldn't seem to stop fidgeting after the recording stopped. From what Mr. Kaiba had said the fact that she got the email indicated that something had happened to prevent him from stopping the delivery of it. Hoping desperately that some minor chaos had erupted to make him forget, she picked up her KC cell phone and hit the quick dial button she used most often.

"Hey, love, I just got the weirdest…" she began after Roland answered his phone.

"Patience."

Just her name. That was all. But the taut tone behind his voice spoke volumes.

"What's happened?"

"Mr. Kaiba is missing."

* * *

"_He's not dead. He's NOT dead! He won't leave me…"_

He had to be strong. His brother would be counting on him.

Seto Kaiba had now been missing for almost eight hours. Midori, his administrative assistant, had been the last person to speak with him, bringing several reports that required his attention - and a letter. She could recall nothing unusual in his demeanor at that time.

Two hours later, footage from the security cameras showed the young C.E.O. exiting the building and disappearing into the lunchtime crowds. Isono confirmed that his boss had not called for his driver or a security detail. There had been no further sightings since then.

When there had been no word by the time Mokuba had been picked up from school, Isono discreetly arranged for additional security to be posted around the mansion. He also had Midori go through Kaiba's office to see if he had perhaps left some message regarding his plans for the day. Nothing was found, although Midori did note that while the reports she had delivered were still on the desk, the letter that had been with them was nowhere to be found. She could not recall seeing a return address on the envelope and with the volume of mail delivered on a daily basis, it was not surprising that no one working in the mailroom remembered handling it.

Mokuba had just changed out of his school uniform when the package arrived, brought by special messenger. In hindsight, Isono would reflect, the messenger should have been questioned on the spot, but the man was gone by the time anyone understood what the package contained.

Even as he realized what he was looking at, Mokuba still hoped it was all some stupid joke. After all, many of the cards were staples in the decks of most high-level duelists. But when he found first the one, then the other two Blue Eyes White Dragons, he knew _something_ had happened to Seto. His hands were shaking when he pulled out the last card in the package-

"_I-Isono? ISONOOO!"_

The head of Kaiba Corp. security dashed out of the library where he had been fielding updates on the search for his boss to find a shaking Mokuba in the front hallway, holding a duel monster card in a white- knuckled grip, other cards scattered at his feet. Isono knew it was Paladin of White Dragon only because the card text was still readable. The image of the monster had been mutilated by what Isono recognized with a sinking feeling as a small-caliber bullet hole…


End file.
